


Found in the Dark of a Bright New World

by Windflux



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Blindness, Dark, Disfigurement, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Serious Injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-04
Updated: 2014-08-24
Packaged: 2018-02-11 18:14:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2078193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Windflux/pseuds/Windflux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post Predacon's Rising: Megatron, having spent many vorns in self-imposed solitude in the mines he once worked in, is asked for help by the terrified inhabitants of one of the nearby rebuilt settlements. There seems to be a monster hiding in the darkness of the lower levels and no one dares to venture there in fear of the supposed Terrorcon or Empty. What he finds in the depths of the planet is not at all what he expected...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Request

Megatron frowned down at the fidgeting bot in front of him.

It wasn't news to him that the majority of the nearby town's inhabitants was well aware of his presence in the mines. On the contrary, he was almost certain that those among them who used to be Autobots even reported his whereabouts to the authorities long ago. But, whoever was in command - for he had not bothered with keeping tabs on the political situation in fears of getting involved despite his vows not to - did not seem to have any wish to apprehend him for his crimes during the Great War.

Apparently, the hand full of Autobots composing Team Prime had decided to honour their Prime's statements regarding his capability for change and thus let him be. As long as he let the rest of Cybertron be, naturally. Which he had done for all these vorns, staying on his own, thinking, reflecting. Sometimes regretting, even mourning.

He was lonely, but he knew it was his own fault. He was cursed, his spark so tainted that he could not even enter the Well. With Unicorn sealed away, chances were that he would just simply end up in an abyss of nothingness if he decided to end his existence. And so he lived, existed. Waited. For maybe, some orn, something would happen, although he himself could not fathom what he expected that something to be.

All the more surprised had he been when he was shaken from his recharge by the sound of hesitant pedesteps on the uneven metal ground of the tunnels leading to one of the mine's many entrances a few breems earlier.

The bot was small, obviously quite young, a mechling still, one of those sparked after the war, and trembling quite badly under the former tyrant's gaze. He did not back down though, was even gathering his wits to say whatever it was he came here for. 

"Well?"

"I..w-We n...need your help, please! M...Megatron, Sir!"


	2. The Shadow in the Dark

Trudging down the steps only recently built into the smooth walls, down to the lowest levels, Megatron couldn't stop wondering why exactly he had agreed to this again. Or why he had even been asked in the first place.

Of course, the majority of the town's inhabitants were former Neutrals or post-war-sparked Cybertronians, so their mistrust towards him would understandably not be as great as that of many others on the planet, but still...

He had a feeling that this was related to the possibilty of finding precious materials down in these depths and certain individuals' unwillingness to share. After all, there was hardly any reason to venture down here in the first place and yet a group of young mechs had built these steps in recent vorns for that very purpose.

If the young bot who had come to ask for his help had not been so nervous, he might not have said anything about that at all. And Megatron would maybe even have believed that the officials didn't believe in monster stories without proof and wouldn't help quickly enough. Now, he had the strong suspicion that they had never been contacted in the first place.

Despite having come to this quite likely conclusion, he had agreed to take care of the problem. It seemed like a good way to elevate the dullness of his orns. And he was curious about this 'monster'. The only things the mechling and the other mecha he spoke briefly with when following the young one into town could tell him about it, were vague descriptions like 'fast, dangerous, evil, sharp claws, thin, optic less and altogether bad'. Due to this summary someone had dubbed it the Shadow. How very dramatic.

Arriving at the bottom of the stairs Megatron turned left, the direction in which most incidents had occurred.

Fact is that whatever that creature was, it must have been down here for a very long time as there were no ways other than the recently created steps down into these canyons, which had been formed by shifting plates during Cybertron's revival. At least none that anyone knew of.

So far, the few sightings of the Shadow had ended in injuries ranging from small scuffs and scratches to deep gushing wounds. No one had died - yet. Not being experienced in any form of combat, the young mechs were thoroughly terrified.

'At least it isn't a Terrorcon', Megatron thought. 'It would have tried to suck Energon and turned others into Terrorcons as well. It could be an escaped experiment from Shockwave or something completely different. Who knows what creatures appeared on the planet during our species long absence.'

He was interrupted from his musings by a quiet hissing noise. He almost missed it due to the sound of his own heavy steps, but the long vorns of war had taught him to be on constant guard. It was the only warning he got before he felt viciously sharp claws bury themselves into his back. Quite the feat considering the thickness of his plating.

Clenching his fanged denta he quickly reached back to grab his attacker, tear them off and throw them over his shoulder. He could hear the crunching impact of metal on metal accompanied by a pained hiss and he felt energon seep from the small but surprisingly deep wounds down his backstruts.

It was almost pitch black, the sky far above only faintly visibly and his optics creating just enough light to see the spindly shape of the creature jump at him again. It had been a while since his last fight, but eons of war and a life as a champion gladiotor were not easily forgotten.

When he saw the Shadow jump at him he quickly sidestepped and turned, evading the sharp claws of the hissing beast. His own clawed servo shot up, going for the neck. All of this happended way faster than most would expect from a mech his size and bulk.

He got the creature at the back of its neck and immediately slammed it forward into the rough ground. He got more hissing and frantic wriggling and the noise of sharp claws frantically scratching accross metal, shearing it off in thin curls, as a reaction. Megatron pressed down harder, letting his giant claws rest at the beast's throat.

"Enough!"

Sudden silence and a stiffening of struts was the result.

'Well now, it seems to understand Cybertronian...or it is simply too stunned by the sound of my voice.' He loosened his hold marginally.

"Can you understand me?"

Silence.

"Can you speak?"

Strut-deep shudders and soft, strangely familiar, clicking noises.

Megatron frowned down at the spindly thing. He was fairly certain he had never before encountered a creature such as this and yet...

Anyway, it appeared to understand at least part of what he was saying.

"You will hold still!"

It was not a question and the Shadow seemed to understand that as it stayed completely limp when Megatron stood, holding it up in front of him by its thin neck. Optics roving up and down the spindly shape in the almost non-existant light, the feeling of familiarity only got stronger. Along with a new and disturbing sense of wrongness that he could not quite explain.

This would be a lot easier if he still had his fusion cannon. Its light would be more than enough to see more clearly in the darkness. Unfortunately he never got a new weapon after Unicron brought him back from the dead and reformatted his body. He should have taken the townsfolk's advice and taken an illumination stick or another form of light source. But he had come down into this hole thinking he should be fine fighting and killing the 'monster' even in complete darkness. He had not expected to actually want to see the thing to decipher its origin while it was still alive.

'Well, there is always the straight-forward approach.'

Megatron lifted his free servo and put it in the middle of the creature's back, slowly moving it across plating - and it defintely was plating just like that of any Cybertronian, he thought he could even feel some transformation seems. He ignored the shuddering as well as the rather distressed sounding clicks until he reached a strange uneven nub on the plating, which caused a sort of hiccup in the clicking. The metal under his digits almost felt like a very shoddily done weld. Moving his servo further, he encountered another one on the other side of the back. The creature held completely still.

'Strange... the location of these welds... it's almost like...'

"Wings!"

The former warlord's exclamation returned life to his unwilling study object. It hissed and wriggled, frantically trying to get away, kicking out with slim pedes. _Heeled_  pedes!

Megatron felt like he had walked right into a bulkhead on the Nemesis. The slightly sick feeling in his tanks grew tenfold. He didn't need to explore any further, didn't need more light, didn't want any either. He _knew_  what, no _who!_ , this was!

"Starscream..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for all the kudos and comments! I'm glad this story found so much approval.


	3. An Offer of Hope

After the revelation of the "Shadow's" identity, he had let go of the small frame in his grip immediately. The half-expected resumed attack never came. Instead the seeker had scrambled to get away from him, huddling up in a nook of the canyon's wall, trying to make himself as small as possible.

Megatron, former Warlord and tyrant, had done many things in his long life that would make most normal mecha sick to their tanks. He himself could only remember one time long ago when he had ever been overcome by that particular feeling.

When D16, a poor miner desperate to find a better lot in life, had entered into the ranks of the gladiotors of the Pits of Kaon, he had known he would have to kill others. He had believed himself prepared. He hadn't been. His first kill, the nearly starved mech's pleading to be left alive, the scrunch of metal, the pouring energon, the fading light in the other's optics, the booming applause of the crowd - it all had changed, maybe broken, something in him. D16 had ceased to exist that orn and Megatronus was created. He had learned to be strong and later, when he became Megatron, to extinguish any such weakness in his spark in the first place.

Never again had he felt this particular mix of shock, disgust and nearly unbearable guilt churning his tanks. Until this orn.

Staring at the small, huddled form in the dark in front of him, listening to the distressed clicks, Megatron felt sick.

It was Starscream. And yet it wasn't. Starscream was obnoxious, loud, treacherous and proud. And a coward. Starscream was a former scientist, a warrior, the Decepticon Air Commander and his Second in Command. Starscream was a Seeker, a proud flier of Cybertron!

This broken creature in front of him was none of these things.

He had thought he had seen the seeker at his lowest when Starscream had been begging him for his life during a punishment. He had been more than wrong, apparantly.

Megatron hadn't known what had happened to Starscream after he had left him behind at the Well of Allsparks following his liberation from Unicron. He had assumed the Seeker did what he always seemed to do - survived, no matter the odds.

He had assumed the little fool would have gone undercover for a while and then eventually built himself his own small fortune. Starscream was clever after all and Megatron knew that very well, although he hardly ever acknowledged it. There was no point in feeding the Seeker's ambition after all. The fact that Starscream never sought him out, or 'crawled back to him' as he often thought, seemed to prove him right. Only it didn't really.

No wings, no optics, no vocalizer. Reduced to an existence in the dark, without hope of ever seeing the light again, of ever taking flight again. Unable to even give voice to his torment.

Oh yes, Lord Megatron - tyrant, warmonger, Supreme Commander - felt sick to his tanks at the thought of it. He had done much, tortured many. But he never let it drag out for vorns and vorns, much less forever. And Starscream's torment was obviously meant for just that.

He may not have wings in his root mode, but he knew the need to fly ever since he got his flight capable altmode. He knew the call of the sky the way any flier did. Back on Earth all those many vorns ago he had not been too surprised that Starscream turned up with all four Omega keys once he learned he had lost his T-cog. Any flier would be driven above and beyond their usual abilities, both physical and mental, to regain their flight. They had to, if they didn't want to slowly become mad.

Back then, it had only been a few Earth months and Starscream still had his wings, which made a huge differnce in seekers and other winged frame types. A seeker's wings were especially sensitive, covered in sensors that allowed them to feel even the smallest movement, the slightest shift in the air, the faintest energy output, making them the best fliers as well as the best energon scouts on all of Cybertron.

To take their wings from them was the worst torture conceivable. He had done it on occasions to punish Starscream when he had gone too far in his schemes, but only ever for a very short period of time. And even after that the seeker had been more skittish than usual for decacycles. But he had never been broken. And Megatron never wanted him to. After all, he would be useless for the Decepticon Cause and what commander with any sense did that to his followers? 

Megatron did not need to guess as to who was responisible for Starscream's current state. There was no way in the pit any of the Autobots, not even the small two-wheeler, would ever be this cruel. And none of his former Decepticons would go this far, either. Most of them were either fliers themselves or intimately familiar with them, after all. Besides, none of them had reason enough to be so drastic in any revenge against their former commander. That only left the Predacons.

Clenching his fists, barring his fangs, Megatron let out an angry growl. 'That pompous self-appointed king! If this is his form of justice, than Shockwave truly created a beast - a beast that believes itself to be noble! Next time I see him and his frame-kin I'll make use of this Unicron damned upgraded frame of mine and...'

His angry fuming was interrupted by the sound of frantic scrambling of claws and pedes on metal. Looking up he saw Starscream's dark form trying to get further away from him, shivering too much to be steady on his pedes, crawling on all fours instead, venting in a frenzy and altogether a complete picture of utter panic and misery.

Frowning, the former Warlord realised that the seeker probably thought his growl was directed at him. 'Now is not the time for anger...'

He tried to sound as calm as possible, something he had not done since before the war.

"Starscream, calm down. I am not here to harm you."

He got no reaction whatsoever and it stood to reason that the seeker hadn't even heard him in his panic. Moving quickly, Megatron strode after him and all frantic crawling didn't help the smaller mech when he wound his arms around his middle and chest and picked him up from behind, causing him to go completely rigid.

"Starscream, you...-what?"

He almost dropped the seeker when he felt the sudden shifting of plates underneath his servos. For a terrible moment he feared Starscream would try to transform, which in his state could be fatal. He knew what was happening, though, the moment he saw sparklight illuminate the darkness around them and felt the warm, fast pulse of a spark very close to his claws. Too close.

He carefully put the smaller frame on the ground again, turning him around, removing his servos so as not to pierce the spark accidently. He watched the seeker sink to his knees, his chestplates still wide open, barring his bright blue spark to him. The ruined optics were all too obvious in the light from the spark, starring at him when the seeker lifted his head, barring his fragile neckcables as well. Servos twitching, but at his sides on the ground, Starscream was the complete picture of surrender. Megatron now recognised the pose for what it was: the pose one would take before their executioner.

'No...this is wrong.'

Taking a deep intake to calm himself, Megatron took a step closer to the seeker, trying to get a teek on his tightly indrawn EM field.

"Do you wish to die?"

It was all too likely. Having existed like this for so long, chances were high that Starscream would want it to end. And if there was anything of his former SIC left in him, then he simply could not have done it himself. Megatron would do it, if it was truly what Starscream wished for.

He could teek the seeker's fear and he understood. Starscream was afraid he would hurt him even more. Under different circumstances he might very well be offended. Here, though, he understood. It was, to no small part, his fault the seeker was in this situation and Starscream, with vorns and vorns of loneliness and pain and ever growing madness behind him would and could not expect anything good to come from him. So, not capable of taking more pain, he offered for the former warlord to take his spark.

But Megatron would rather the seeker lived...and there was only one thing he could offer that would make him continue.

"Or do you wish to fly again?"

His answer was a hitched intake and an all-frame shudder. He could teek fear, a lot of fear, but also a small glimmer of...hope? It was barely there, but he was certain he had felt it, and that was enough for him.

Moving slowly, so as not to startle the seeker, he lowered himself to his knees. Reaching with both servos, he tentatively placed them to both sides of Starscream's sparkchamber.

"You know... I have become a bit bored in the last few vorns, so I would not mind some distraction, even of the annoying, talkative sort. And my flights seem to be lacking something without an obnoxious little fool of a seeker showing off his skills, flying circles around me."

Smirking slightly, he coaxed the chestplates closed.

"Not this orn, Starscream. You still have much to see and do before I let you join the Allspark. For in case you have forgotten, yet again, let me remind you. You swore your allegiance to me, not only the Decepticons, and I have yet to free you from that pledge!"

With the spark safely back under plating it bacame much darker again, but this close the light of his own optics was enough to see the shocked expression on Starscream's face along with the silent opening and closing of his mouth. If he had a voice, he would probably be sputtering. Seeing that as a sign that the seeker was not quite as broken as he had feared, his smirk widened to a grin. And while Starscream couldn't see it, he would certainly hear it in his voice.

"Well then, Starscream, are you ready to reclaim your wings?"

It was a simple question in itself, but it meant so much more.

He was not surprised when he suddenly found himself with a seeker desperately clinging to his front, slim claws latching onto his chest and shoulder plating, hitching intakes and clicks substituting for what would otherwise have been keening and crying. And when he would have shoved him back what seemed almost a lifetime ago, would have admonished him for his weakness, he now wrapped his arms around Starscream and let him mourn.


End file.
